


Loki: The God, The Greed, The Grief

by AnimeFaeMoon



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:59:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2339369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimeFaeMoon/pseuds/AnimeFaeMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A closer look at the God of Mischief and a chance for redemption</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deciding Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> The first few chapters of this story will take place in various times of Loki’s life as we know it so far starting with the end of the Avengers. SPOILERS for Thor, Avengers and Thor : The Dark World. There may also be some dialogue from the movies integrated in the scenes, and flash backs to Loki’s life from before he became obsessed with Odin’s throne.

Loki was lying with his eyes closed on a long flat bench in the center of one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s prison cells, his hands bound to the device on his neck to prevent his use of magic, as well as attached to his ankles, currently chained to either side of the bench. He could lay back but his feet remained on the floor and his legs spread. It was not comfortable. 

He was still recovering from what that giant overgrown avocado had done to him, and now he was forced to wait to see if Thor would be taking him back to Asgard or if he would be left here with the mortals. Neither choice was very appealing.  
He heard the door open but did not move, curious when the person did not speak or seem to move from the door way. A moment later, he felt someone crawling over him, and a well placed knee was against his groin.

He leisurely opened his eyes and stared up at the red-haired woman above him. “Agent Romanoff, this is a surprise.” His eyes flickered to their seemingly intimate position, for he knew that she did not have pleasure on her mind. Thus was the reason he deliberately goaded her. “How’s that ledger?”

She smiled, menacingly, then reached down, gripped his testicles and twisted. “Still red.”

He didn’t even try to swallow his gasp of pain, but he chased it with a slow, deliberate chuckle. “Is this to be a condemned man’s last request? A beautiful and angry woman to grope and fondle me until I beg forgiveness? Your Midgard punishments are far more interesting than those of Asgard.”

She twisted again but his smile only widened and she released him. “You probably get off on it, you sick bastard.”  
“Oh my dear, you have no idea.” He leveled smouldering green eyes at her and released a velvet sigh. “Do what you will, I am at your mercy.” His smirk faltered for only a second as he felt her hands at his belt. Did she seriously mean to molest him? These Midgardians were a confusing lot.

Natasha had been trained by the best, and the worst of mankind. She could make passionate love to someone while plotting and carrying out their quick demise at her hands. She was immune to the charms of men and women, impervious to the lure of power and riches and resistant to the pull of sorrow, envy or guilt. 

But this alien from another world, this man with the face of a dark angel and a body built for sin had, in that moment, with his piercing eyes and warm, sweet sighing breath, made her knees go weak. She hated him for it.

“Your big brother says you’re not to be harmed,” she stated calmly as she finally found the release of his complicated, double laced belt and pulled a dagger out of her boot.

“Interesting,” he commented mildly, trying to hide his confusion and yes, his rising panic when she managed to also found the release for his trousers. “Do you plan to gut me or bed me, woman?”

She shrugged, nonchalantly. “I figure what Thor doesn’t see he doesn’t know about.”

Loki tried to remain calm, he truly did, but when she found the opening of his trousers beneath his long leather tunic tails, and placed her hand over him with a near maniacal gleam in her eyes, the panic returned tenfold.

“No need to be shy.” She ran the tip across the snaps of his trousers, releasing them one by one. “Gods in your world too good for underwear, huh?” She pushed back the folds of his trousers and licked her blace. “Well, no matter, you won’t need this where you’re going.”

He bucked, trying to dislodge her, but she had obviously been in this position before and clung easily. It didn’t help that his feet were chained on either side of the bench either.

She leaned in close so her lips were a hair’s breath away from his, and he stopped moving when he felt the cold of the knife against his exposed groin.

“Don’t,” he warned.

“I’m sorry, are you asking me or telling me?”

He winced as the point of the knife pierced his skin, just below his naval. “If this is your idea of courtship I can see why Barton preferred to spend his time with me....Ahh...ha ha. ” He deliberately laughed at the feeling of steel entering his flesh, even as a shallow wound, then met her eyes defiantly, hoping to entice her to stick the dagger all the way into his stomach, or anywhere else other than where she intended. “It’s the chains, isn’t it? They’re turning you on?”

“So tell me, Loki? Do you heal easily?” She again touched him intimately with her blade, felt him tense and knew he was afraid, despite his pretense. “Does everything...grow back?”

"How dare you, you filthy cow!" He was bored of this woman and had had enough of her “I am a God!”

She glanced down at his exposed organs and smirked, then back into his face as she leaned in and whispered. “Puny God.”  
Rage filled him, but so did fear. She couldn’t possibly mean to castrate him! That was barbaric, even for Midgard.

“So, which one do you want to keep?” she asked conversationally. “The left or the right?”

Where was Thor?, or that bedraggled pirate with one eye? Were they really allowing this woman to reign over him? He knew that humans were a savage lot, but he hadn’t expected this. He looked towards the doors where he had sense two guards earlier but they were no longer there. His eyes flew to the cameras, but he could see the red light did not shine on them. He was alone and unobserved with a mad woman! He changed tactics.

“I...I understand you may still harbor some...some resentment from our last encounter.” He hissed as the blade again pierced the same spot as before, just under his navel and he felt a trickle of blood slide down his skin. “That is understandable. I...may have been less than courteous to you.”

“Oh I don’t care about any of that, Loki,” she purred. “Those were just words and I got the information I wanted from you.”

“T....then why?”

“What was it you, said about Barton?” She tapped the knife to her lips for a moment then pressed it just beneath his testicles, watched him try to shrink back but couldn’t. “Not until you make him kill me. Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows I fear.” She scraped her knife along the underside of his testicles, not enough to break the skin, but enough to give any man a good jolt of pain and fear. She was surprised when he barely flinched. “How many ways do you fear, God?”

Her impudence enraged him once again. “I do not fear pain or death, you mewling quim...” He saw stars when she struck him, impressed that she had managed to hit him so hard. He had not expected her blow to be so strong.

Thor, after some hesitation had translated the words when she asked him from the last time she had spoken to Loki; she wasn’t about to let the Asgardian get away with it twice.

Loki smirked, wiped at the blood on his lip. “So beat, me, wound me, mount and ride me to the gates of Valhalla, I care not. You cannot kill me, mortal. I shall live an eternity compared to your insignificant life span. I will return here a hundred years from how or a thousand, and when I do, when your bones are no longer even ash, I will kill thousands in your name and your ledger will be dripping once again.”

Natasha had met her share of dictators, assassins, defilers and power mad maniacs; none of them came close to this guy. “You hurt people, Loki, a lot of people, and for what? For power? To show up your big brother?”

“He is not my brother!” Loki screamed enraged, and then just as quickly went limp.

He had been a son of Odin, a Prince of Asgard and a brother of Thor. He was a God to mortals and a leader, at least in part, of men. He had fought side by side with the Warriors Three, had drenched the battlefield with the blood of his enemies; perhaps not as easily or as much as Thor, but he had done his share. 

Yet always Thor’s shadow hovered over him. Always Thor was better, garnered more respect, more love, the favor of the mighty Odin and now, now the love of mortals! Now, as ever, Loki was nothing. An orphan of a despised race, a disgrace to the family who had reared him, an abomination to the nine realms, and of all the ways he could die in battle, he was left here in the hands of a petty female mortal, who wished to castrate him.

He started to laugh again and the ridiculousness of it all.

Natasha sat back, scowling. Had he finally gone around the bend? She poked him again with the knife, and his laughter faded. “Do I have your attention now?”

He sighed and turned his eyes away to stare at the wall. “Do as you will. You are correct, I will have no use for it.” It wasn’t like he’d had much use of it before either, most of the women and even the men had always preferred Thor to him. The irony of what he was about to lose, after centuries of not using it, caused him to start laughing again.

It took a lot for something to shake the former Russian agent, but seeing Loki lay there laughing so hysterically that tears streamed down his face while he had a knife at his genitals freaked her the hell out!

“Natasha.”

She glanced over at the doorway and saw Steve Rogers standing there, still his Captain America uniform but no longer wearing his head gear. Slowly she crawled off of Loki and slid her knife back into her boot. She had only intended to scare Loki, to mess with him as he had her, but this, this was lunacy. 

“He is crazy,” she murmured and brushed past Steve on her way out.

The moment she was gone Loki stopped laughing and adjusted his clothing, as well as he could with his bound hands. 

“My hero,” he sneered at Steve. “Forgive me if I don’t swoon,” He rattled his chains. “But I am slightly encumbered.”

“You’re going back to Asgard with Thor,” Steve advised quietly, more disturbed by the scene he had just witnessed than he was willing to admit.

He had volunteered to tell Loki of S.H.I.E.L.D.s decision, no one else wanted to be anywhere near the Asgardian, and frankly Steve didn’t trust his new teammates not to try and hurt Loki further. His concerns were realized when he noticed the missing guards outside the prison cell door, then saw Natasha inside when he entered. He understood his teammate’s anger, but Loki was a prisoner the same as any other, and prisoners were not mistreated or tortured, not on his watch.

Loki sighed and tried to push his hair out of his face, the rattle of his chains echoed in the quiet room as he moved. “Really? I was having such a good time here, too.”

Steve wasn’t buying Loki’s bravado. He had seen what Natasha had been threatening to do, and that would frighten any man, no matter how old he claimed to be or from what planet he was from.

Loki’s laugher had shaken the unshakeable Agent Romonov, but upon hearing it, Steve knew there was more behind Loki’s hysterics. He knew the laughter of a madman, he had heard it many times before he had crashed a plane and woke up almost a century later. While he had admitted to knowing men like Loki before, men that allowed their thirst for power to consume them, he knew Loki’s laugher was inspired by fear, not amusement or madness.

Steve saw the black belt dangling on the bench behind Loki and moved towards him. He was startled when the dark haired man flinched, ever so slightly at his approach. “Your belt,” he said and picked the long piece of leather. 

“Do you intend to hang me with it?” Loki smirked. “It will break; I am heavier than I look.”

“I could snap your neck just as easily,” Steve replied. “If I wanted you dead.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Ah, so the colors of your uniform are ingrained into your genetic code, then? Do you truly believe in truth, justice and the...” He stiffened in surprise when the tall blond slid the belt around his waist and fastened it properly around him once more.

“You don’t care what I believe in, Loki,” Steve said as he straightened. “Just as I don’t care what happens to you when Thor takes you back to Asgard; that is for your people to decide. But until he takes you back, you are a prisoner of my country, and my country, the country I stand for, does not humiliate or abuse their prisoners.”

Loki wanted to stand, he hated having to crane his neck to look up at the Avenger, but he was still chained to the bench. “You know better than that.” he said quietly, feeling a strange affection for the soldier from another time. “You know the country you stand for is not what it was, or even what it should be. The world you fight for is one step away from self annihilation.”

“We have our problems,” Steve agreed. “But we can change, we will change, because no matter how many power-hungry men, or warring aliens attack us, we will stand together to fight. We will always stand together against a common enemy.”

“But you attack each other when there is no enemy to fight. How is that reasonable?”

“Reasonable? You’ve tried to kill your brother twice, and from what I hear, allowed an ancient enemy into your own city with the attempt to kill your own father.”

Loki smirked. Touché. “You’re information is incorrect on two counts. I killed the frost giant that tried to kill Odin, and Odin is not my father.”

“You killed the guy you let in to your city in the first place?”

Loki shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Sure.” Steve moved back to the door. “And we’re the savages.” He started to step out then paused and looked back when Loki spoke his rank.

“I admire your optimism for a better world, but feel I must warn you.” Loki looked down at his chained hands. “Domination and subjection are the only way any world can be ruled, and these things will always be lead with betrayal and deceit. Any who go against such tradition will be swallowed whole by the institution disguising itself as justice, leaving them a choice of only madness or misery.” He met Steve’s gaze. “I hope you chose wisely when your time comes.” 

Steve stared into Loki’s eyes and saw the choice that a God had made. He nodded, then stepped out and closed and locked the door. “Poor bastard.”

“Sir?”

Steve waved at the two guards who had resumed their positions outside the door. “Nothing.” He ran a hand through his hair and walked down the corridor.


	2. Imprisonment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki faces life in a cell

_“Loki?”_

_He turned, smiled at her, loving her for her beauty, her grace and above all her kindness. “I am here, Mother.”_

_She smiled, settled on the grass beside him with her long legs tucked beneath her gown, unbefitting of a Queen, but quite natural for a mother; or so she constantly told him. Her fingers ran through his hair and he leaned into her touch. “You were not at your brother’s celebration feast, my son.”_

_He sighed and leaned his head back against the tree under which he sat. “Thor has more celebrations feasts than a bilgesnipe has pups. If he manages to dress himself there is a celebration feast.”_

_Frigga chuckled. “He is still your brother and you should be there to show your support.”_

_He moaned and let himself slide sideways so that his head fell into her lap. “Can I not just send him a basket of fruit?”_

_Closing his eyes he sighed as her fingers resumed their caress through his hair. This, this was his favourite thing in all the nine realms, his favourite feeling. He would happily rest here for eternity with his mother stroking his hair._

_“Or perhaps a new helmet to fit his abnormally large head?”_

_“You are such a naughty boy.”_

_“I blame you entirely.”_

_She laughed again and it was a sweeter sound than any music in Valhalla. He turned onto his back and stretched his legs out, resting his hands across his stomach and staring up at the face of the most beautiful woman he had ever known. His father did not deserve such a Queen, he thought, not for the first time._

_“You probably do, yet I love you still.”_

_He smiled at her. “And I you.”_

_“Then why did you do this to me, Loki?”_

_“Do what, Mother?”_

_Suddenly, her smile faded, and the sensation of her hand grew weaker. “Oh Loki. What have you done?”_

_The disappointment on her face was almost his undoing and he sat up, even as she started to fade. “No. No, Mother!” He reached for her, grasped only air._

_“Loki! Why? Why did you do this to me?”_

_“I’m sorry! Mother, I’m sorry! Please! Please, come back! I’m sorry!”_

**_Frigga is the only reason you are still alive, and you will never see her again._ **

Loki bolted up on the bed, caked in sweat as Odin’s words surrounded him. He was in Asgard. Sentenced by the All-Father for crimes against humanity to spend eternity in an impenetrable cell, rather than executed.

He was insulted by the confinement and that it stripped him of the ability to do more than the most basic of magic, this was just one more betrayal by Odin and so he allowed that anger to join with the resentment already festering. He did not concern himself that the citizens of Asgard despised him, they were never overly fond of him to begin with, and it was always Thor that they fell over themselves for. The warriors three had long been his enemies, had strived to torment and humiliate him when they were younger, or worse, merely dismissed him. They too only ever clamoured for his brother’s affection and had only tolerated their friend’s younger brother.

No, he could deal with the hate of his people, with the leers and crude comments of the palace guards, even with this ridiculous confinement. The one thing he couldn’t deal with, the one thing that caused him true and deep pain was that Odin had denied him the one person that could have kept him sane through all of this. His mother was not permitted to visit him, the All Father had promised he would never see Frigga again, and the moment Odin had pronounced such a harsh sentence he felt a whole rip through his hear and shatter his soul.

The man he had once known as father, whom he had admired and loved had now taken everything from him! He had stolen him from his home of origin, then hid him among the people of Asgard. He had pretended that Loki was his son, promised him the throne one day, but only ever thought of Thor. It was Thor he trained, Thor he revered and Thor he primed as his successor. Loki was shuffled off to Frigga, like the family pet to be cared for when the All-Father could not be bothered with it. Always second brother to Thor. Always second son to Odin. Always second in everything.

And he had suffered for it. He had suffered because he had idolized Odin, worshiped him as the God he was meant to be. He had coveted the times that Odin had held him. Rejoiced whenever Odin spoke a kind word to him, or praised him for something. But even the All-Father’s touch, his praise, his gifts were dimmed by the constant deeds of his brother Thor, who’s presence was felt even when he was not in the room.

He had wanted to love Thor, and for many years he thought he did. His mother insisted he practice patience and compassion. She tried to tell him that Thor needed more of their father’s attention because he had far more to learn. Loki caught on quickly, was ahead of his brother in all his studies. He practiced magic for hours, studied the ancient texts and the scriptures of past wars, hoping, praying that Odin would be pleased. But Odin only ever saw Thor.

Loki rose and moved to pour himself a glass of water from the picture on a small corner table. The cell was larger than the others, they had actually used two cells for him, and it had modest furnishings, again unlike the other cells which held only a place to piss and a place to sleep. At least he had a full bath attached to his cell, which was shielded within a small room.

A small bed, a few ornamental tables and a dresser, one or two items from his quarters in the castle and several stacks of books; brought by the Queen’s servant. He had not opened the books, because his mother had not bothered to bring them herself. He didn’t really expect her to go against the King’s wishes, but he could not help resenting that she had not even tried to see him in the past five months he had been locked in this Godforsaken cell.

He missed his freedom, the sounds of battle practices and the smiles of the maidens as they passed him in the courtyards. He may not have been the lover that Thor was, but he had managed to charm his share of women. He missed the fragrance of the gardens and the view of Asgard from his palatial rooms. Here he had only stale, sometimes foul smells of the other prisoners, and the only view he had was of the white ceiling or the other cells.

“Loki?”

He spun around, startled and felt his heart leap at the sight of Frigga standing in his cell. He started to rush to her, longing to feel her arms around him, then realized that it was only her image; she could not even bother to come in person. Resentment festered once more, disappointment that he was still denied her touch.

“Does your husband know you’re here, my Queen?”

“Are those truly to be your first words to me after so many months?”

He waved a dismissive hand at her, refusing to allow her to see how much he had missed her. If she could not even come in person why should he care? “Perhaps if you had let me know you were coming I could have prepared something more appropriate.”

“You look well?”

“Do I?” He sat in his reading chair. “I suppose that’s something.”

Frigga looked at the stack of books by the wall. “Have you read any of what I have sent you?”

“No.”

“May I ask why?”

He turned an accusing gaze to her. “Are they your way of assuaging your guilt, my Queen?”

“I have no guilt, Loki.” She shook her head. “And I am your mother as well as your Queen, am I not?”

Loki ignored her last words. “Then you approve the All-Father’s decision to lock away your son for the rest of his life?”

“Your sentence was neither my decision nor my doing, Loki. You are here because of your own choices, not mine.”

Loki crossed one long leg over the other. “I am delighted that my incarceration has not kept you up at night, my Queen.”

“Must we waste the short time we have with petty argument, my son?”

“And how is Thor, my Queen? Your real son.”

“You are my son as much as Thor is, Loki.”

“I was never your son.”

Frigga sighed and shook her head. “I can see you are in a mood. I will leave you then.”

“Wait!” Loki bolted up, frightened of her leaving and hating himself for it. He lashed out in anger. “I cannot even touch you! You cannot even be bothered to come here in person and let me...” He closed his eyes tightly and balled his hands into fists. “Do you come here like this only to torment me?”

“I come because I love you, Loki, and so that you will know I will always be your mother.”

He opened his eyes, which shimmered with unshed tears. “I wish he had left me to die. Why did he not leave me to die?”

Frigga’s eyes glistened as much as her son’s. “You were but a babe, Loki. He could not leave you there among the blood and the death. He took you as a kindness and we raised you out of love.”

“No!” He wiped angrily at the single tear that escaped from his eye. “He took me as a tool, to use against Laufey when the time was right. He never loved me! I was nothing to him!”

“You know that is not true, Loki.”

“He put me here! How could you claim he knows of love when he has done nothing but lie to me my entire life!”

Frigga stared at him sorrowfully. “He did what he believed to be right, Loki. Where you were born does not reflect on who you are. You are Loki Odinson, you are my son...”

“I am no son of Odin!” He moved forward out of habit, searching, needing her to do what she always did when he was upset; comfort him. “I killed for him, Mother! I killed my own...I killed Laufey for Odin and still he rejected me!”

“He rejected your reasons not your deeds, Loki. You put all of Asgard at risk by allowing the Frost giants into Asgard...”

“It was a game! A ploy to gain their confidence. My entire life I have been schooled in the possibility of another war with Jotunheim, and I found a way to rid us of that threat. I should have been crowned King for my efforts, and instead I was thrown off the Bifrost!”

“Loki...”

“Even upon learning my linage, my hatred for them did not diminish, my wish to destroy them was not curbed. I was doing what was right, what was just to save the rest of the realms from those savages. I was doing what the son of Odin should do, what a King should do!”

“Odin wanted only peace with Jotunheim, Loki.”

“Then why tell us of their immorality? Why regale us over and over with tales of that battle and the danger Frost Giants warrant? Why did the All Father make his son’s hate the monsters under the bed, then refuse to allow us to destroy them?”

Frigga paused and considered. “Your father did not tell you those stories to instil hatred and fear...”

“He is not my _father_!”

“You will not raise your voice to me, Loki!”

Loki felt heat swamp him and he stumbled back. No. No he shouldn’t be screaming at her, he didn’t mean to scream at her. “F...forgive me,” he murmured out of habit.

He needed her touch, he needed to touch her. Didn’t she understand that? Would she deprive him of her tenderness, her love as everyone else had? Had he lost even that one strand of grace to keep him sane?

Frigga sighed. “I suppose much of this is my fault. You were always trying so hard to please everyone, my son, and when you could not you turned instead to pleasing only yourself. I spoiled you, made you far too self indulgent, so some of this burden falls upon me.”

Loki dropped down on his bed, suddenly so tired. He shook his head ruefully. “Spare the rod and spoil the child? Not really your style.”

“No. But a mother can only love her child.”

“I am not your child.”

The words were out before he could stop them and he knew they hurt her, so he kept his eyes lowered, unwilling to see the pain in her beautiful eyes; pain he caused yet again.

“Loki.” She reached for him, as if the need to touch was just as strong, but she knew if she tried to make contact her image would disappear. Sighing, she allowed her hand to drop. “You are my son, and I love you.”

Her words were too much, too much when he could not feel her fingers in his hair, smell the rich scent of her perfume or the softness of her hand to his cheek. They were just words now, just empty words.

He turned his back to her. “Leave me,” he ordered, disturbed when his voice broke. When he glanced over his shoulder a moment later she was gone. He dropped back into the chair, hung his head in his hands and wept.


	3. Sorrow and Vengence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's thoughts after Frigga is killed and he seeks vengeance with Thor. Spoilers for Thor the Dark World. It is multiple scenes to prepare for the real story coming. :-)

_“Loki! Have you truly gone through all of these books already?” Frigga’s eyes flashed with pleasure. “I cannot get over the rate of which you read, child.”_

_Her praise warmed him, but his mother was always kind. It was not his mother whom he wanted to please, but his father. “I have learned two more languages, Mother. I now know six languages of the nine realms.”_

_“You are a marvel” Frigga turned as Odin entered their chambers. “My love, come and see what your son has done.”_

_Odin smiled and walked over to them._

_“I have learned six of the languages out of Nine in the realm, father.”_

_Odin ruffled Loki’s hair, affectionately. “How many do you think you need, Loki?”_

_“As many as there are, Father. A wise king must be able to speak to all his people in their own words. You told us that.”_

_“So I did. I am glad you were paying attention.”_

_“Father,” Loki began lifting a piece of parchment that he had been working on several weeks. “I have also created a new spell to...”_

_“All-Father!” A tall man that Loki knew to be one of their battle instructors entered with a huge smile on his face. “You must come and see your son! He has bested three of my men with only his fists!”_

_Odin’s smile widened as he rose. “Surely not!” Odin touched his hand to his wife’s cheek. “Such a son have we, my wife. Come we will see this victory for ourselves.”_

_Frigga glanced down at Loki, who had fallen silent, then did as her King and husband commanded. Loki moved to the balcony which looked out over their private courtyard. He watched Thor battle back two more of the palace guards that sparred with him. Moments later, Odin and Frigga appeared and Thor ran to the All-Father._

_“Did you see, Father? Did you see me defeat them? Not even a Frost Giant can match me in battle!”_

_Odin laughed heartily. “Well, perhaps you need a little more practice, son, but indeed, I am impressed by your skill.”_

_Loki could listen to no more. He moved back to his desk, picked up the parchment and threw it in the fireplace to watch it burn_.

 

___________________________________________

 

**_You might want to take the stairs to the left._ **

Why had he told the beast do to do that? Because he was bored? Because he wished to create chaos for Odin, even if he could not be part of it?

**_The Queen is dead. Killed by the one who escaped from here._ **

Is fault! Frigga was dead because he had given the monster a way past the guards. He had not believed that the beast would get anywhere near the Queen. Where was Odin? Where was Thor? Why had they not been protecting her? His last words to her was that she was not his mother. His last words to her were a lie, meant to shame and hurt her for allowing him to rot in this cell.

“Mother!” he screamed and his fury was unleashed in is contained area.

Books burned, furniture broken, glass shattered. With his bare hands he tore apart his cell. No magic for this! None of the gift she had given him. None of the compassion she tried to instil in him, none of the kindness or love, only the pain, the rage. His fists slammed against the force shield of his cell, burning his hands, but he didn’t care. When he ran out of things to break, things to rip apart he turned on himself. He ripped and tore at his fine clothing, destroyed his shoes, his belt, everything he could get his hands on.

Exhausted, he slumped against the wall, battered, bleeding, and wept. Harsh, horrific sobs tore from his body, screams that rivalled the most tortured soul ripped from his mouth and filled the halls of the prison area, reaching as high into the castle as the kitchens and servants quarters; frightening children, women and even some men.

Finally, his screams quieted, his sobs receded and his tears dried and he was left sitting on the floor among glass, shredded books and debris, leaning against the wall of a chamber he would never be free from. The last shred of decency, desire and perhaps even humanity slowly withered inside of him, like a glowing ember growing cold.

Unsure how long he sat there, he was startled from his self-pity by the sound of boots on the steps. Instinct caused him to throw up an illusion as Thor appeared before him, so that his room was once more tidy and the illusion of himself was its usual, indifferent facade.

“Thor. After all this time you have come to visit me. Why? Have you come to gloat? To mock?”

“Loki enough of your illusions.”

Loki considered ignoring The Lightening God’s request, but finds he is too weak, to uncaring if his former brother sees the truth. With a wave of his hand the illusion vanishes.

“Now you see me brother.” Does it fill you with pleasure, Thor? Do your eyes not twinkle and your heart not dance in merriment to see the man I have become?” Loki watched Thor walk around to the side of his cage and cannot help but ask. “Did she suffer?”

“I did not come here to share our grief. Instead I offer you the chance of a far richer sacrament.”

Loki stared at him, tilted his head, surprised to find himself curious. “Go on.”

“I know you seek vengeance as much as I do. You help me escape Asguard and I will grant it to you.” Vengeance. And afterwards this cell.”

Loki regarded the debris of his cell, the cell that he had spent the last year and a half in. This is where he belongs. This is where a monster like he deserves to be. And yet...Vengeance. Would it slake his rage? Would it help him bury these horrific feelings of guilt and sadness at the loss of his mother?

He looked back at Thor and almost laughed. “You must be truly desperate, to come to me for help.” When Thor simply turns away he adds. “What makes you think you can trust me?”

“I don’t.” Thor turned and met Loki’s weary gaze.“Mother did.”

Loki felt the tears well up inside of him again, the anger, the grief and finds he has no response.

“You should know that in the past when we fought, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there, somewhere.”

Was it possible, Loki wondered, that Thor did still care for him? Had his mother been true in her words? But when Thor continued, he knew that it was not to be. He had finally lost the one thing he truly did not believe himself capable of losing; his brother’s gullible and unfailing loyalty.

“That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me, and I will kill you.”

Loki was surprised to find that more grief pierced his heart. Now he truly was alone. And so, he would help Thor, to get his vengeance, because that was what he needed, what they both needed. And then, he would find a way to betray him, so that the God of Thunder would kill the God of Lies and finally he would be free from his cage, his grief and all this insufferable emotion.  
“When do we start?”

\------------------------------------

Loki pulled himself back from the memory of his mother as he guided their hover ship across the surface of Svartalfheim and watched Thor cover his human lover with a blanket. Despite his grief and anger he was unable to completely curb his lust and ambition, especially when such power lie just a few feet away from him.

How easy it would be to defeat the Dark Elves and Odin with such a weapon. How quickly he would be able to claim victory over his enemies and bring about the much needed changes within the nine realms. He smirked, almost able to hear his mother scolding him for such thoughts.

“What I could do with the power that flows through those veins,” he sighed.

“It would...consume you,” Thor insisted quietly.

“She’s holding up alright.” Loki was quite impressed by that fact. Perhaps there truly was more to Jane Foster than first appeared. She was certainly a feisty little thing, and he could see why she appealed to his ape of a brother. Still, she was a human, and he didn’t think her strength against the Aether would last, so he added. “For now.”

“She’s strong in ways you’ll never even know,” Thor murmured.

What an idiot, Loki thought, not entirely unkindly. “Say goodbye.” He would not like his brother, if Thor truly loved this mortal, to miss the chance that he had missed with Frigga.  
“Not this day.”

Loki shook his head. The girl would never survive this, and Thor was deluding himself to think otherwise. Besides, whether it was today, tomorrow or in another fifty years, a human’s lifespan was just a blink of the eye to an Asguardian. Certainly nothing to get worked up over.

“This day, the next. A hundred years is nothing!” Why couldn’t Thor understand this? Why was it up to him to remind his brother of such a thing? “It’s a heartbeat. You’ll never be ready. The only woman who’s love you prized will be snatched from you.”

The face of a young, dark haired woman immediately invaded his mind and he pushed back the quick stab of grief. Thor had robbed him of the throne, had thwarted him at every turn. Robbed him of Odin’s love and tormented him in childhood. But he would not wish that sorrow on anyone, not even his idiot brother.

“And will that satisfy you?”

“Satisfaction’s not in my nature.”

“Surrender’s not in mine.”

“Son of Odin..."

“No, not just of Odin. You think you alone were loved by mother? You had her tricks but I had her trust.”

“Trust? Was that her last expression?” Tell me Loki’s heart screamed. Tell me her last words, her last breath. “Trust? When you let her die?”

“What help were you locked in your cell?”

“Who put me there? Who put me there!”

“You know damn well!” Thor grabbed Loki’s arm, shoved him against the boat. “You know damn well who!” He raised his fist and saw that Loki did not even flinch, if anything he seemed eager for the blow.

That’s it, Thor, hit me! Hit me until I can no longer feel this pain! This grief. Hit me because I deserve to be punished!

Thor struggled with his anger, struggled against the need in Loki’s eyes when he did not even try to defend himself. Loki was goading him, simply goading him into a fight? Why? So that he would beat him bloody? Why?

“She wouldn’t want us to fight!”

Loki, both disappointed and relieved, had seen the struggle in Thor’s eyes, the grief and the sorrow, the anger and despair and suddenly did not want to see this man in such a state. He tried to lighten the mood. “Well, she wouldn’t exactly be shocked.” He was relieved when Thor almost smiled at him, but, there were tears in the Thunder God’s eyes.

“I wish I could trust you.”

Loki was stunned to see that it was true, that Thor still, after everything, wanted to believe in him again, trust in him again. Now he had truly lost his brother’s love, his trust, and he had only himself to blame. No, Thor couldn’t trust him, shouldn’t trust him, and yet, he as compelled once again to offer Thor some manner of solace.

“Trust my rage,” he whispered as Thor turned away from him.

\--------------------------------------

Loki saw Thor was losing the battle with the Beastly dark elf, and recognized it as the one that had escaped the cells in Asguard. Rage filled him, broken by a moment of fear when he realized that even Thor was no match for this creature. No! He had already lost his mother, he would not lose Thor! He cared not if his brother forgave him, or trusted him. He would not let Thor die!  
Running towards them, Loki grabbed up one of Dark Elves’ grenades and a battle lance. Thor was being pummeled on the ground and their mother’s killer had lifted a rock over his head to crush Thor with when Loki finally reached him. He pierced the bastard’s straight through the heart, and slipped a grenade onto the creature’s belt  
.  
He had not expected the beast to turn, grab him and pull him forward for a startling impalement. Pain and shock stunned him for a moment, and as he felt his life force drain, his rage grew as he faced the monster that had killed his mother. Die you bastard! Die and rot where even Hel won’t have you!

When the creature tossed Loki to the ground the God of Mischief smiled.

“See you in hel, monster.”

The creature was consumed by the force of the grenade and Loki watched as the creature was ripped apart until the very last remnants of it dissipated. Rest, now mother, he thought wearily. You have been avenged. He fell back as the pain of his wounds took hold once more.

He barely felt his brother’s arms gathering him up, Thor’s words were dull, out of focus.

“Oh, you fool! You didn’t listen.”

He looked up into his Thor’s eyes. “I’m a fool. I’m a fool.” And so are you, he thought. Do not forgive me, brother. I am not worth it.

“Stay with me, okay.”

Loki was in agony, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t focus on anything, not even his brother’s face. So this is what it was to die? He regretted that he would not see his mother in Valhalla, sure that he would be going to another place. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he told Thor, unable to stay with him, unable to hold on. “I’m sorry.” For everything my dear brother. For mother, for Jane, for everything. I did my best. I did my best.

“Sssshh, it’s all right. I’ll tell father what you did here today,” Thor promised.

Sentiment, he thought annoyed, even as his body turned cold. He’d never felt cold before, and had not understood why, until he learned his true parentage. A frost Giant did not feel cold. They were monsters, just like him. He cared not for Odin’s praise or approval. He did this for one reason, one only, for Frigga. For his mother. For vengeance.

“I didn’t do it for him,” he told Thor, wanting him to understand, wanting him to know the truth. It was for Frigga, for their mother. His mother. His eyes closed and the darkness consumed him.

\---------------------------------  
Loki was startled to feel breath coursing through his body again. What? Blood was flowing through his veins. He was alive? He was alive!

“No!” he gasped. “No!” He wanted to die! Why couldn’t just die? He looked down at his injuries and saw that his skin was blue. The blood of the Jotunheim was healing him? He could still feel the wound in his chest and he was still weak, but he was alive.

He rose to one knee, then managed to climb to his feet. “Thor!” he called. “Jane?”

They were gone. Limping he headed back for the ship they had arrived in. He needed to get back to Asguard, needed to...what did he need to do? Why should he go crawling back to Odin? He would probably be put to death this time, wouldn’t he? Yes, Odin would have no choice and Frigga would not be there to intervene this time; not this time.

Loki had too much pride and survival instinct to kill himself, he needed someone to do it for him. After all he had done, the people that had died, the worlds that were destroyed, he felt no remorse, but the death of Frigga....

He slowly climbed into the boat, his decision made.  
\-----------------------------------

“Forgive me my liege, I return from the dark world, with news.”

“Thor?”

“There is no sign of Thor, or the weapon, but...”

Odin turned to him. “What?”

“We found a body.”

“Loki?”

“Yes.”

Loki waited, he wanted to see the Alfather’s joy at his demise. He needed to see this, deserved to see this, to prove he had been right all along. He was therefore stunned, when Odin fell to one knee and bowed his head.

“First my wife, and now...My son.”

Loki was startled by the sorrow in Odin’s voice, and he found himself stepping forwards to aid him, only to remember he was disguised as a guard and remained where he was. “Sire, we do not know that Thor is dead. He may have pursue...”

“Loki.” Odin put a hand to his face and a sob released. “Loki.”

Loki was speechless. This could not be! Odin could not be weeping over him! Odin had imprisoned him, robbed him of his rightful throne, tried to keep his mother from seeing him. He favoured Thor over him, had lied to him all of his life!

**_He is not my father!_ **

**_Then am I not your mother?_ **

**_You’re not._ **

**_Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself_**.

“AlFather,” he said quietly and allowed his illusion to shimmer away.*

Odin turned towards him, his one eye growing wide as he rose. “You! You come to me like this?”

“I admit, I do not look my best...” He was shocked when, with a wave of Odin’s hand he was thrown back against a column.

“You dare to mock me?” Odin demanded striding towards him, enraged, then stopping suddenly when he saw Loki’s chest bleeding.

Loki followed the Alfather’s eyes and sighed. He had expended too much energy, and the blow from Odin had caused his wound to reopen. Ah well, die here, die there, what did it matter really?  
“It is my nature,” he managed, just before he passed out.  



End file.
